


Weight to be Borne

by Sorka42



Series: Little Black Dress Challenge Stories [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Arson, Attempted Murder, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Gen, M/M, Murder, No Sex, Pre-Series, Racism, Statutory Rape, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 23:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7778227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sorka42/pseuds/Sorka42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the newly promoted Sheriff John Stilinski, the Hale fire was the worse thing to ever happen in his town. It was bad enough that so many people died. That it was deliberately set made it that much worse. He has lived his whole life with latent Sentinel abilities, this might be the case that pushes him over the edge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weight to be Borne

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the July 2016 Little Black Dress writing challenge. 
> 
> Edited but not betaed. All mistakes are mine. 
> 
> The statutaory rape warning is there because it is discussed, not depicted. This is a canon event.

John Stilinski looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't like what he saw. He had bags under his eyes and he was pale when he would normally have a healthy tan. His uniform was sharply pressed but he felt like it didn't fit right anymore. He would have to ask the dry cleaners what they had done different this week because he itched where the shirt touched bare skin. 

He left the bathroom and found his ten year old son standing on a step stool in front of the stove, expertly making grilled cheese sandwiches. He felt his heart break a little at the sight. Mieczyslaw was dealing with the grief the only way he seemed capable at the moment, by taking care of his father. That meant cleaning and cooking as well as he could without burning the house down or turning all their underwear pink. John was letting him, mostly because he was barely able to take care of himself and work his job. 

It wasn't really healthy to be leaning on his son like he was. He had taken them both to grief counseling but that only seemed to make him hypersensitive to his reactions to things. It didn't help that Mieczyslaw insisted on being called by his nickname now. Claudia had been the only one in the family outside of the extending branch that still lived in Poland that could properly pronounce his name. Every time John said it wrong they both winced. So Mieczyslaw was now Stiles and there was no going back from that. 

“Hey, kiddo,” he said as he came into the room. “Smells good.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Styles replied with a grin. 

“You all set to stay over Scott's tonight?” John asked as the phone rang. 

“Yeah,” Stiles sighed. “Scott's Dad got him the new Playstation. We're going to try it out.” 

John narrowed his eyes at that. Tyson McCall was not his favorite person in the world. He was an FBI agent, so he made a lot of money and liked to flaunt it by giving Scott expensive gifts whenever he bothered to come home. 

“Hello,” he said into the phone after the third ring.

“Hi, John it's Melissa.”

“Hey, we were just getting ready to leave.” John said. Scott's mother was a saint. She as currently working part time as a nurse at the local hospital. Both Stiles and Scott were too young to be left unsupervised, so Claudia and Melissa would swap sitting duty. Since Claudia's death it had been harder to work out a schedule that would work. 

“About that,” she sounded upset. “Scott had really bad asthma attack and we had to take him to the ER.”

“Is he alright?” John asked. He glanced over at Stiles who was, carefully and with great determination, carrying the plates with their dinner over to the small kitchen table. 

“He'll be fine, but the doctors want to keep him overnight just in case.” 

“Okay,” he sighed.

“Sorry, John.” 

“It's okay, Melissa.” John replied. “Take care.” 

“You too,” she replied and ended the call. 

“Is Scott going to be okay?” Stiles said from where he was sitting.

John's breath hitched. Everyone once in a while, his son would exhibit signs that his senses were just a little bit better than the average person. He was diagnosed with ADHD due to his inability to concentrate on any one thing for more than five minutes, but John wasn't so sure. If his little boy was going to come online as a sentinel, he hoped it happened when he was older. 

“Yeah,” John assured him. “Guess no Playstation for you tonight.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles didn't look upset, but he was getting pretty good at hiding it.

“How do you feel about coming with me to the station?” John offered. 

Stiles eye lit up with excitement for the first time in days. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” John replied. “You can camp out in my new office.”

“Cool!” Stiles ran over and hugged him.

John bent down and wrapped his arms around his son.

**

They were only a fifteen minute drive from the station but as they approached the road that lead to the entrance to the local wildlife preserve, John smelled smoke. Growing up in a family of sentinels and guides, he sometimes had episodes of hypersensitivity. Usually when he was emotionally compromised. Since Claudia's death he's been experiencing them more often than not. He knew better than to ignore something was obvious as a fire.

“We're going to take a little detour, Stiles,” John said and turned onto the road in question. It was paved for a few hundred yards, but then it turned into a dirt road. It was well maintained by the Hale family, that lived in a house just outside of the preserve. 

“I smell smoke,” Stiles said, his eyes trained straight ahead, trying to see where it was coming from. 

There was an unmistakable glow of a fire, but not in the woods, it was coming from the direction of the Hale's house. “Damn.” John grabbed his radio. “This is Sheriff Stilinski, there is a structural fire at the Hale property. I need Fire Rescue, EMTs, and all available units.” 

“Understood Sheriff,” the dispatcher said. 

John pulled up as close as he dared with Stiles in the car. The front porch of the three story Mansard roof house was engulfed in flames. He climbed out of the car and looked around. There were at least a half dozen cars parked in the large front yard. Which meant there were more than just Talia Hale and her family in there. 

“Stiles stay in the car!” he warned as he ran forward. He looked for a way inside. Movement to his left caught his attention. There was a woman and two men running away from the house. His vision zoomed in on the rifle in the woman's hands. He drew his pistol and ran after them. 

“Police! Don't move!” he shouted. 

The two men froze in shock their eyes wide with surprise and fear. The woman raised her rifle at him. John fired without hesitation, he hit her in the shoulder and she spun with the impact and fell to the ground. He turned his gun on the two men.

“Hands up! Get on your knees,” he ordered. Only one of the men did as they were told and John cuffed him. The second bolted into the woods. John cursed, but let the suspect go. He could hear the fire trucks heading up the driveway. 

Screams from the house echoed in his ears as the sun started going down. The woman started laughing. “Too late, Sheriff. You'll never get them out of there. I made sure of that.” 

He turned her onto her front and cuffed her hands behind her back. “You both have the right tore main silent.” He said as he turned to the kneeling man. He knew him from town but he couldn't place the name. He finished reading their rights and securing them and then left them where they lay.

“Dad!” Stiles shouted. “They can't get out.” His son was standing near a basement hatch. Someone had put a chain and padlock around the handles making it impossible to open from the inside. John ran to his car and pulled out a set of bolt cutters. He could hear someone trying to push the hatch open. 

Three patrol cars pulled up to the scene. “Take the suspects into custody, and help me get that hatch open,” he ordered. 

“Hang on, help is on the way.” John shouted. He set the blades of the cutter on one of the links and pressed all his weight on the handles but it wouldn't give. Deputy Cordova ran over with a cutting version of the Jaws of Life. He had the chain cut in seconds. John pulled the remnants of the chain free. The door burst open and several people of different ages frantically crawled out of the smoke filled basement. 

EMTs rushed forward to give aid even as the fire crew started pouring water on the blaze. A second crew of firemen put on air tanks and entered the basement to look for anymore victims. Three more victims were pulled from the basement minutes later, with all the noise John didn't attempt to see if they were alive. 

To the horror of everyone, the moment the water hit the fire on the first floor, it seemed to explode. The firefighters in front, holding the hose, were engulfed in the blast and something inside the house cracked and gave way. The firefighters pulled back, the front two scrambling to beat down the flames that where burning their gear.

John made sure that Stiles was safely back in the car. He didn't want him to see his people pulling bodies out of that house.

“How many people were in the house?” Fire Chief Reynolds asked even as he ordered towns one ladder truck to send crews up to the roof.

“I don't know,” John admitted. “But there are at least two more people in the there. I can here them. Both are on the third floor.” 

There was a scream from the third floor. One of the people that escaped the fire broke away from the medics and ran back into the burning building, their move was so fast, it was a blur of motion. 

“Mom! No!” 

John turned to see a soot covered girl struggling to follow. He knew her, Laura Hale. Which meant that the person that ran back into the fire was Talia Hale. Then a sound like a roar was heard and a window on the third floor shattered outward. Smoke billowed out of the opening, and a little girl was hung outside, away from the smoke and flames. Whoever was holding the child had burns all over their arms. 

Rescue crew ran forward as the person in the house let the child fall. John could only thank the powers that be that they was able to catch her. Thankfully she wasn't badly burned, but she was covered in black soot and she wasn't breathing. 

They handed off the child to the medics and turned back to the house. There was another loud crack and the walls of the first floor gave way and the second floor fell onto the first. Someone threw an adult body out of the same third floor window. The body wasn't as easily caught and John heard a bone or wo snap at the rough landing. Screams of horror from the victims getting treated were joined by another from inside the house that was abruptly cut off as the roof collapsed inward. A column of nearly bright yellow flame shot up into the night sky as the house was fully engulfed. 

An hour later with the house in ruins and the fire mostly contained, John had made sure his suspects were closely guarded. 

John found Stiles sitting in one of the ambulances with a boy about five years his senior. The two were whispering to each other. It took a moment for the face to click in John's mind. Derek, Talia's son. He looked distraught. 

“Stiles, I thought I told you to stay in the car,” John admonished gently.

“Dad,” Stiles turned to him. “Tell Derek it's not his fault.”

“It is,” Derek whispered.

“It was the lady that my Dad shot. She did it,” Stiles said with confidence 

“Lady?” Derek's head lifted. 

“We have a woman in custody that was fleeing the scene,” John explained. “She had two others with her, one got away. Can you tell me who she is?” 

Derek closed his eyes tears streaming down his cheeks. “Kate. Her name is Kate Wilkes.”

“How do you know her,” John asked gently. 

“She- we- she said she loved me.” Derek pulled at his hair with his hands. “She lied to me. She- Oh god. She tried to kill my whole family.” 

“Derek?” All three turned to see Laura Hale staring at him with horror. “How could you?!”

John grabbed Laura by the shoulder and pulled her away. “Ms. Hale, this is not the time or the place.”

“You don't tell me what to do,” Laura growled, her eyes glowed gold.

“Young lady,” John said giving putting all the authority he could muster into his voice. “You will not take your anger and grief out on your brother. Do you understand?” 

Laura shook herself, suddenly seemed to deflate, burst into tears. “My mom is dead.” 

“I'm sorry,” John said and pulled her into a hug. He glanced over at Stiles who was holding onto Derek as if he were trying to keep the older boy from falling to pieces as he sobbed inconsolably.

** ** 

The interrogation room in the Beacon Hills police station wasn't what you would call state of that art, but it served its purpose. John watched the man he had chained to the table through the two way mirror. He was just an accomplice, the main suspect was the woman Derek had identified as Kate Wilkes. Her finger prints had been taken while she was being treated at the hospital. He had her cuffed to her bed and guarded around the clock. 

The man was Terry Bennett, a local contractor and construction worker. He had a wrap sheet, but it was all minor stuff; petty theft, drunk and disorderly. Nothing that pointed to him being involved in multiple counts of murder. He had asked for a lawyer the second he had reached the station. The two were now talking in hushed tones.

John decided he had given them enough time and entered the room. “Gentlemen, I assume you've had time to talk things over.” 

“I'd like to know what my client is being charged with.” David Poe, the lawyer, said. “As far as I can see, you have a case for trespassing at the most.” 

“I beg to differ, Mr. Poe,” John opened the file with the early crime scene photos. “This is what is left of the Hale's home. A house that had stood for nearly one hundred years.”

“My client had nothing to do with the fire,” Poe replied. 

He put down the photo of the phone line that had been cut down at the end of the Hale's driveway. “We found your truck at the Beacon Hills Wildlife Preserve's main parking lot, less than a mile from the Hale's house. Inside the open bed of your truck we found a set of heavy duty line cutters.” He looked Terry straight in the eye. “We sent both the wire and the cutters to the state forensics lab for confirmation, but it is pretty clear that the marks from this cutter match the marks on the wire.”

“Vandalism at best,” Poe retorted. 

“The Hales practically own this town, a little payback was bound to happen,” Bennett said. 

“Terry,” Poe warned.

“I have six members of the Hale family in intensive care. One is isolated in the burn unit and isn't expected to make it through the night. Plus two firemen who were caught in a blast that we're still at a loss to explain.” When neither the lawyer or his prisoner spoke he slapped down the photo of the charred remains of Talia Hale. “This is just one of four people that didn't make it out of that fire. This isn't some petty crime, this is murder. You are looking at life in prison, Terry.” 

“I didn't know she was going to kill anyone!” Bennett exclaimed as he paled. “We were just going to scare them.”

“Shut up, Terry.” Poe said through gritted teeth.

“She said we'd start a fire on the porch and maybe watch from a ways off. I didn't know anything about chaining the basement shut or throwing that powder through the window.” 

“What powder?” John demanded. “Who was the man with you, the one that got away?”. 

“I don't know who he was,” Terry said.

“Then what do you know?” John demanded. 

“What are you offering?” Poe asked. 

“I'm offering to put in a good word for you with the DA,” John said. “I've known you since high school, Terry. You're an ass, but until last night, I'd have sworn you weren't a murderer.”

“Can I have a few minutes to discuss this with my client?” Poe asked. 

“You have five minutes,” John said. He deliberately left the photo of Talia's body on the table as he left the room.

** 

John entered the waiting room of the Burn Unit. He knew that when he took the job as Sheriff, that he would have to deal with grieving families on a much more personal level. It was his job to make sure that everyone was treated fairly and with compassion. Nothing in all his years in law enforcement had prepared him to face the grief of this family. 

Nearly every member for the Hale family over the age of 18 was either dead or in intensive care. Talia's husband Richard was in shock in the Burn Unit, but the prognosis was hopeful. Peter, Talias' brother, was identified as the body throw out the window as the house collapsed. He was also in the Burn Unit, but with burns over 90% of his body. He wasn't expected to recover. Regina Hale, Peter's wife, was dead as was their infant daughter Patricia. Morgan Hale, Talia and Peter's father also died in the house, having shielded the children in the basement from the fire. Cora, Talia's youngest was in the ICU, but was only dealing with minor burns and a lot of smoke inhalation. She had apparently been sleeping on the third floor when the fire broke out. Talia had sacrificed her life to save her and Peter. 

John looked at Laura, who was only turned 18 a few weeks ago. She was legally the adult of the huddled group. She looked like she wanted to do nothing more than run away when he approached. 

“Ms. Hale,” he greeted. “I know this is a very hard time, but I need to ask you a few questions.”

Laura looked at her siblings and nodded. “I'll help as much as I can.” 

“Do you know a man name Terry Bennett?”

“Bennett?” Laura blinked. “The only Bennett I know is from Mom talking about some contract bids she was over seeing for the township. She was complaining that his bid was too low for the work that needed to get done.”

“Too low?” John asked.

“Unrealistically low,” Laura shrugged. “Like, wouldn't even cover the cost of materials low, so she rejected the bid.”

“I see.” John made a few notes. He took a deep breath, as he glanced over at Derek. He was huddled in a chair as far away from the rest of his family as he could get and still be in the same room as them. “I want to assure you all, that the people responsible for what happened will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. We have two suspects in custody and we expect to have a list of accomplices in a few days.”

“It doesn't matter,” Derek said quietly. “It won't bring our family back.” 

“No, but they will be punished.” John replied. “Do you have anywhere you can stay for the night?” 

“Uncle Peter has a house on the other end of town,” Laura said. “We're going to stay there for now.” 

“You'll let me know if you need anything?” John asked, as he handed Laura his business card. 

“Thank you, Sheriff,” she replied.

“Now, as you are the only legal adult, I need you and Derek to step outside for a private conversation,” John said. Laura looked like she was going to protest, but she nodded and turned to Derek who looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

They shut the door to the waiting room and took several steps away. If any of the Hales had sentinel abilities, there would really be no way to keep them from listening in, but John had to try and keep this conversation between the three of them.

“I need to take Derek's statement in regards to a suspect we have in custody,” John explained. 

“What do you need me for?” Laura demanded.

“At this time you are the closest thing he has to a legal guardian.” John said. “You either have to be in the room, or I need your permission to talk to him alone.”

Laura's eyes slid off of her brother in way that made John nervous. “Take him, I don't have time to baby sit him when I've got three kids under ten that need my full attention.”

“Derek, would you like give your statement here, or would you like to come to the station?” 

Derek never took his eyes from the floor. “I'll come with you.” 

“Okay,” John turned back to Laura. “A social worker will be here in about an hour, her name is Mandy. She'll help you get whatever you will need.”

“Thank you again, Sheriff Stilinski.” Laura replied before heading back into the waiting room. 

John escorted Derek to his car and placed him in the passenger seat. It was obvious that the young man was hurting. “I just want you to know, I'm not going to judge you for anything that you say during your statement. Okay? We need the all the facts that lead to the fire. So I need you to be as truthful as you can.” 

Derek looked at him and nodded. “Are you a Sentinel?” 

“I'm a latent,” John admitted. “I have the genes and sometimes I have sensory episodes, but I'm not online.” 

Derek, bit his lip, like he wanted to argue, but he didn't comment. “I just wanted to make sure. Sentinels are trusted by my ki- family.” After several quiet minutes in the car, he spoke again. “Your son, he was really nice to me.”

“Stiles is going to be the death of me one day,” John sighed. “But he's a good kid.”

Once at the station, John brought Derek into his office. “Tell me what you know about Kate Wilkes.” 

“I met her during one of the lacrosse away games. I'm on the Junior Varsity team,” Derek explained. “She was in the crowd. She said she was from the other team's school. She said she was a senior.” 

“Did you two start dating?” John asked.

“We exchanged cell phone numbers and she started texting me. We would meet every couple days over in Brier Lake. There is this coffee shop.” Derek looked down at his hands. “I know people think that because we have money that we get anything we want, but I'd never been on a real date before, never really had a girlfriend. I thought I was really lucky.”

“Lucky how?” John pushed.

“She was really... eager,” Derek said. “She was older than me, so she got us a room at the Brier Inn.” 

“How old did she say she was?” John asked.

“She told me she was eighteen,” Derek said. “I didn't even question it. I should have.” 

“Derek, there is no blame here, I just need the facts?” John asked. “How often did you two meet?” 

“Twice a week for the last three months,” Derek mumbled.

“How many of those encounters were of a sexual nature?” 

“Every time,” Derek replied, not looking up.

“Is there any reason why this woman would want to harm your family?”

Derek looked up then, for just a moment, John saw his eyes glow blue. “She thinks my family are monsters.” Half an hour later, he knew the secret that the Hales had been hiding for generations and he found he didn't care. 

“The only monster around here is her,” John assured him. He took the young man back to the hospital to be with his family. They got there just in time to learn that Richard Hale had died. 

When he realized that in their grief the two of the children were starting to show signs of their heritage. He closed the curtains on the waiting room and guarded the door until it was safe. Laura thanked him, then took her family to her uncles house to rest. 

As he drove back to his own home, John swore he would make that woman pay for what she had done to this family.

 

** 

John waited until the doctors were done checking his suspect's wounds before he entered her room. She had been in the ICU for a week fighting off the infection from the bullet wound. Considering the amount of suffering she had caused, John hoped it was a long and painful recovery.

In the time that she had been unable to talk, her accomplices had sung like birds. Terry had been but one of many. The Hales had been a fixture of this town for generations, apparently that also meant they had made enemies that had no problem causing them egregious harm. 

“Good to see you're on the road to recovery, Ms. Wilkes,” John said casually. “Or is it Argent?” Her finger prints had come back as a consultant for an arms company called Argent Tactical. They were a well respected supplier of weapons and equipment for law enforcement all over the country. 

“Either one works,” she said with a glare.

“Have you been in Beacon Hills long?” John asked. 

“No, I just arrived,” she lied. “I was just coming to look at some houses for my brother.” 

John nodded and wrote down her statement. “Your brother's name?” 

“Christopher,” She replied. 

“Christopher Argent, of Argent Tactical?” John tilted his head. “We found his business card with your effects. His number on your phone under 'family'. I guess that explains the arsenal we found in the trunk of your car.” Kate didn't say anything. “We called him by the way. He's apparently on his way here. ” 

Still nothing, but she looked more tense now.

“So, tell me, Kate,” John began. “What is your relationship with Derek Hale?” 

Kate's expression blanked. “I don't know anyone by that name.” 

“Really?” John asked. “Because he had a lot to say about you. In fact from what he said the two of you have had a rather intense and intimate relationship for a while now. He gave some very graphic details of the activities that the two of you engaged in.” John saw her lips twitch into a smirk. 

“Why would I want anything to do with a teen aged boy?,” she replied. “That's just sick.”

“Teen aged boy?” John asked, innocently. “I never mentioned his age.” He didn't react when her little smirk died but he was cheering inside. “But you are right, it is sick. It is also illegal. Statutory Rape has a minimum two year sentence in this state.” 

“I never touched him,” Kate denied.

“While you've been here sleeping, we've been to your hotel room in Brier Lake.” John shook his head. “You really thought you wouldn't get caught, didn't you. Because that video you took of the two of you with your laptop camera is really damning.”

“I want my lawyer,” Kate demanded.

“You're going to need a good one,” John replied before he turned and left the room. He stopped next to Deputy Mason, who was guarding the door. “No one is allowed in her room except the medical personnel and only those confirmed to be on duty. If her lawyer or family show up, you confirm their identities then send them to me first.”

“Yes, sir.”

** **

The next day John was in his office going over lab results and the initial report from the Arson Investigator. This was the second investigator to be assigned to the case, as John had sent the first one packing after he had taking five minutes in the charred rubble and had declared it an electrical fire. That man was now under investigation for corruption. The jackass had been bribed long before the fire had occurred to report it as an accident. Everyone who has been at the scene had raised holy hell at his on sight pronouncement.

He looked up from the report to the photograph of his son. Stiles was school today, despite his extremely vocal protests. His son had wanted to visit the Hales, actually Stiles had wanted to visit Derek, which worried him a little. Not that he was opposed to Stiles visiting his new friend, but if he was going to focus on something other than his own grief, John was all for it. He just wasn't going to tolerate his son skipping school.

The intercom on his phone beeped, interrupting his thoughts. “Yes, Linda?” 

“Chris Argent is here, sir,” she said. “He is demanding to see you.” 

“Send him in.” John leaned back as the door opened. Chris Argent was tall, thin and well built. He carried himself like a soldier, not a salesman. Just for a moment a part of him wanted to reach out to the furious man before him. But John snaps out of it as he realizes that Chris Argent may well be a guide, but he is also the brother of the xenophobic sociopath that killed four people and seduced a minor ten years younger than herself. 

“Mr. Argent, welcome to Beacon Hills,” John said. “I wish it were under better circumstances.” 

“What right do you have to keep me from visiting my own sister in the hospital?” He demanded. “The call I received didn't mention anything about armed guards.” 

“I'm sorry my thought I was pretty clear,” John said, standing. “When I told you she had been shot and was being treated for her injuries. I also said she was in police custody.”

“I thought it was as a victim, not a suspect,” Chris said heatedly.

“You need to understand Mr. Argent. This isn't some minor offense,” John replied. “Kate Argent was shot during the commission of a crime. Several crimes actually, including resisting arrest and attempted murder of a police officer.” 

Argent's expression went from furious to shocked. “She tried to shoot a cop?” 

“Yes, luckily, I'm a very good shot,” John replied. 

Chris seemed to really look at him for the first time. Something must have clicked, because he went completely still. “She tried to shoot you.”

“Yes,” John said. 

“I would like to speak with her,” Chris said. 

“Certainly,” John replied. “However, you'll have to submit to a search before you can enter her room. She has caused far too much damage in this town for me to allow her to escape justice.” 

Chris' expression hardened. “I understand.” He turned to go.

“Just one more thing,” John called him back. “I know what you are and you know what I am. So I'm going to expect you to answer this truthfully.”

“If I can.”

“Do you know what Kate doing here in Beacon Hills?” John asked.

Chris shifted on his feet and looked John in the eyes. “She was supposed to be in Sacramento getting ready for a sales presentation at convention for law enforcement personnel. The permits for a live fire demonstration can take months.” 

“You didn't answer my question,” John said evenly.

“No, I didn't and I'm sorry,” Chris said, regretfully. “You said there were other charges against her?”

“Multiple counts of murder, attempted murder, conspiracy to commit murder, arson, and vandalism with intent to cause grievous bodily harm. Those are the big ones. I have a very long list of charges,” John replied. “We've scheduled the initial hearing for next Friday. The DA is pushing for remand. Once she is well enough, she will be transported to the county lockup. Your sister isn't going anywhere.”

“Thank you.” Chris swallowed hard. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry my sister has brought harm to your territory.” 

John collapsed into his chair once Argent had left the building. “Fuck.”

** ** 

Stiles was supposed to be at the McCall's house after school, but John didn't even have to get out of his car to know he wasn't there, in fact the house was empty. With a stream of curses, he headed to his own house a block away, his hammering heart calming as he heard his son's voice as well as Scott's talking animatedly in the living room. They were playing a video game and laughing at each other's screw ups. 

As he entered his house, he recognized a third scent. He blink in surprise when he saw Derek sitting in on the recliner, his head buried in a book that he was obviously not reading. “Stiles.” John called. 

Stiles turned and grinned at his father. “Hey, Dad.” He dropped his controller and rushed over to his father, giving him a big hug. “I'm really glad you were able to find us a sitter. Derek's been great.” 

“Yeah,” Scott agreed. He then exclaimed in horror as his character in the game fell off a cliff and died. He restarted, totally focused on the game.

Stiles dragged John into the kitchen by his hand and whispered, “Scott's mom and dad were having a fight this morning, like lots of yelling, so we came home after school. I found Derek sitting on the front porch. I told Scott you hired him to watch us.” 

“Okay,” John breathed. “Next time this happens I want you to call me. Got it?” 

“Got it,” Stiles agreed. “He's really upset about something, but he won't talk with Scott here.”

“You go play your game with Scott, I'll talk to him.” John followed him back into the living room. “Derek, would you come help me in the kitchen?”

“Yes, sir,” Derek said. He looked ready to run, but did as he was asked.

“First, I'm not upset,” John began, and Derek's entire posture relaxed. “But I would like to know why you're here.”

“Tonight is the full moon,” Derek said like it explained everything.

“Wouldn't you rather be with your family?” John asked.

“Laura... shes so angry,” Derek said. “She said she didn't want me near the kids. She said she couldn't trust me. I didn't know where else to go.” 

“Okay, is there anything you need?” John asked. 

“Werewolves control their abilities by anchoring themselves mentally or emotionally to something or someone that they can rely on,” Derek said. “My anchor used to be my mother.” His breath hitched. “But she's gone and I'm losing my Pack connection to Laura, because she refuses to even look at me most days.” 

“So you need an anchor?” John asked. He had an idea where this was going. 

“It sort of works like a guide grounding their sentinel, but the person doesn't even have to know, it is all on the part of the wolf,” Derek said. “My wolf sort of latched on to you and Stiles.”

“Sort of?” John smiled softly at him and the young man blushed.

“Stiles is like this hurricane of noise and movement, but it's weirdly soothing to be around.” Derek replied.

“And me?” John asked.

“You didn't freak out when I told you the truth,” Derek said. “You protected me and my family when we needed it. I- I trust you.” 

“And the full moon?” John asked.

“If I get crazy, cuff me to something sturdy and call Dr. Deaton,” Derek replied. “He can help.”

“The Veterinarian?” John was incredulous.

“He's a druid or something.” Derek rolled his eyes. “He's also a jerk. So don't be surprised if he gets all cryptic on you.”

“Okay, you can stay,” John said rubbing his eyes. “So what kind of pizza do you like?” 

“Meat lovers,” Derek deadpanned.

John had a feeling Derek was going to be as big a handful as Stiles.

 

** **

Chris Argent endured the frisking from the cops guarding his sister. He was doing everything in his power not to vibrate with anger. He had read the newspaper's account of the fire and he was ready to kill his sister on the spot. The Hales were one of the most stable and trusted werewolf clans in the country. They were held up as the ideal when it came to forming strong packs and living within modern society. He was at a complete loss as to what the motivation might have been for attacking them. 

He entered the hospital room, to see his sister staring at the television. She looked pale and tired, but she also looked bored. “So, Katie,” he said. “Care to tell me what the fuck you thought you were doing?” 

Kate turned to look at him and smirked. “My job.”

“Since when does your job include slaughtering innocent children?” Chris hissed at her.

“Innocent?” Kate scoffed. “Please, those miniature monsters? They might look cute, but they'll still rip your throat out given the chance. I didn't plan on giving them one.”

“Are you out of your mind?” He reeled back in horror at the animus that oozed out of her. 

“It's not like they're people, Chris,” Kate sighed. “Oh, that's right. I keep forgetting. You're a guide.” She made air quotes with her free hand. “No wonder Dad gave you the business to run. That empathy of yours made you a lousy hunter.”

“At least I've never been caught by the police.” Chris shot back, quietly. 

Kate narrowed her eyes at him and then pulled ineffectually at the cuff around her left hand. “So are you here to gloat or are you going to get me out of here?”

“You think I'm going to help you?” Chris felt the urge to laugh. “I hope you rot in jail the rest of your life.” 

“Dad will kill you if you leave me here,” Kate hissed. 

“Let him try,” Chris replied with a shrugged. “I'm a well respected member of the hunter community and a successful business man. I took the shell of his fake corporation and turned it into an actual money making business. While he squandered the family fortune and turned you into a sociopath, just like him.”

Kate suddenly switched tactics. “Please, Chris. I'm your sister.” Her eyes wide and pleading.

“And I will always love you, but you crossed the line and there is no coming back from what you've done.” Chris turned to go. “I hope Dad gets you a really good lawyer, because you're going to need the best to wiggle your way out of this.” He left the room and nodded to the guard as he went. 

“Chris? Where are you going? Get back here you bastard!” Kate shouted through the door. “I'm going to fucking kill you! Chris!”

He kept walking toward the elevator. “Chris!” As he entered the elevator and the doors slowly shut, he felt like he was closing the door on more than just his sister's words. 

** **

The moon was full and high in the sky, Stiles was sitting very still on the bottom basement steps as he watched Derek paced back and forth in their basement. Scott had gone home a few hours ago, since Tyson was actually home again. John was standing just a little bit in front of Stiles, just in case. Stiles had steadfastly refused to stay upstairs when Derek decided that it would be safer is he went in the basement for the night. He thought werewolves were the greatest thing ever, because he knew they were real

Derek's features had changed, with sharply pointed ears, and long sharp teeth, and heavy brow ridges. His hands had grown claws and there was a lot more hair or perhaps it was fur. If the young man hadn't explained what shifting looked like, John would probably have freaked out. He lifted his head and sniffed the air then he seemed to relax and settle himself into an old five gallon paint can to sit. 

“You okay?” John asked cautiously.

“Yeah,” Derek sighed. “Just strange, I feel the pack, but it's not like it used to be.” 

“What does it feel like?” Stiles asked. 

“It was warm like a comfortable blanket of happy feelings.” Derek said. “Now it's sad and in pain. Worse, when mom died, we've lost our Alpha. With Dad dead and Peter in a coma, you would think her powers would have gone to Laura, but she hasn't shown any increase of power.”

“And that's bad?” John asked. 

“Yes, because without the Alpha the pack can't grow, we could lose control of our territory to more aggressive packs.” Derek got up and paced the room again. “It's all my fault.” 

“Is not,” Stiles stood and stomped his foot. “I told you it was the bitc- bad lady that did it.” 

“Language, Stiles.” John glared at his son. 

“Sorry.” Stiles sighed. “Take a quarter out of the swear jar?” 

John rolled his eyes. “We don't have a swear jar, and you know it.” 

“Lucky me then,” Stiles replied cheekily. 

Derek blinked at him, tiny smile gracing his transformed features. “You're precocious.” 

Stiles beamed at him for a split second, then his face crumbled and his eyes welled up with tears.

“Stiles? What's wrong?” Derek asked, he gave John a horrified, confused look, His features shifted back to normal. 

“It's okay.” John picked up Stiles and hugged him. “Maria, used to call Stiles that all the time.” 

“Oh,” Derek approached. “I didn't mean to upset you.” 

Stiles lifted his head from his father's shoulder and wiped his eyes. “It's just nobody else ever called me that. I really miss her, and I didn't think it would hurt.” 

“Well, it's bed time for you anyway,” John said softly.

“But, Dad!” Stiles whined.

“What's the rule?” John admonished.

“No whining about bed time or I'll go to bed at nine like Jackson does.” Stiles replied, mulishly. 

“And do we want to be like Jackson?” John asked.

“No, he's a jerk- jackass,” Stiles amended.

John rolled his eyes and set his son back on his feet. “Say goodnight, Stiles.” 

“Night, Derek,” Stiles said, he rushed over and gave him a hug. 

“Night Stiles,” Derek said gruffly, hugging him back.

John found Derek in the backyard when he came back downstairs. He was staring out into the trees.  
“You alright, Derek?” 

“Just listening to Laura and the kids. She lead them in a grief howl, but I think it'll be a quiet for the rest of the night,” he replied.

“She's taking her grief out on you,” John said. “She needs time to heal.” 

“I hope you're right.” Derek said softly and followed him back into the house.

** ** 

 

It was less than a month before the biggest murder trial in Beacon Hills history. All of the witnesses were lined up and both the prosecution and the defense had been arguing over small details for a while now. John was a major witness for the prosecution, as was Terry Bennett, the man had taken a plea bargaining agreement to testify against Kate Argent for a reduced sentence. He was currently in protective custody. 

Terry had identified the second accomplice as Martin Creaser, a man that had been in and out of mental hospitals for years. Creaser had been diagnosed as suffering from paranoid delusions. He had claimed during his interrogation that the Hale family had all been monsters. That he was protecting people when he took the job Kate had offered him. 

The surviving Hales other than Peter had been released from the hospital and where in the process of trying to rebuild their lives. The children were back in school, and there was a tense truce between Derek and Laura. 

John had made it his job to try and find a good therapist for the Hales, he finally met with Dr. Deaton, in the hope that the man would be able to recommend someone 'in the know'. Derek had been correct in his assessment that the Veterinarian was a cryptic jackass, but he did give John a couple names that might help.

The Hales had been fortunate that their parents had been forward thinking, because the insurance policies had paid out enough that none of them would need to worry about money until the youngest of them graduated from high school, at the very least. They would have chosen to be penniless if they could have had their parents back. 

The full moon rose over the town and John was sitting on the hood of his patrol car on the access road to the Hale property. He listened as Derek, Laura, and the children ran through the dense forest playing a werewolf version of tag. Tonight was what was termed a Super Moon, which was when the full moon was closest to the Earth in its elliptical orbit, making it appear enormous in the sky. Derek had explained that it was a very powerful night, and aggressive behavior couldn't be contained. So they would run the kids through the woods and exhaust themselves, maybe hunt some small game. 

As the moon hit its zenith, there was a horrifying howl that ripped through the night. But it wasn't coming from the woods, it was coming from in town. Derek and Laura froze, their eyes glowing in reaction. Cora and the other children huddled together fearfully

“What the hell was that?” John demanded.

“An Alpha,” Laura said tightly. “There is an Alpha in Beacon Hills.” 

“And its trying to call all the wolves in the territory to him,” Derek added. “Laura, take the kids to the caves and stay there until morning.” 

“I'm not running away!” Laura growled.

“Someone has to protect them,” Derek said.

The police radio suddenly went very active with calls of a huge wild animal running through the streets. John scrambled back into his car. He was about to order the Hales to stay where they were, but Derek jumped into the passenger seat. “What do you think you're doing?” 

“You can't handle an Alpha on your own.”

“Well you're not coming with me,” John replied. “Get out.” 

“I can run there on my own, but I figure you might like to know where I am,” Derek replied.

“Fine. Buckle up,” John ordered. He made a mental note to order an SUV the next time they needed a new patrol car.

The night took a decided turn for the worse, when they tracked the Alpha to Peter Hales house. The front door was smashed in and furniture was tossed and broken. Huge claw marks rending plaster and wood. 

“Stay here!” John ordered.

“Like hell,” Derek said and ran up the stairs. 

John had one foot on the stairs to follow when two competing roars echoed through the house. The whole house shook as the combatants slammed into things upstairs. A moment later two bodies crashed through the ceiling of the first floor. One was Derek, the other was a giant, monstrous hulk. They separated and John could see a deep gash across Derek's ribs. The Alpha stood nearly seven feet tall even stooped over. 

John pulled his pistol, the movement caused the Alpha to turn and face him. The face was not human, but for all that he had never seen an alpha before, he knew what he was seeing was wrong. The face was covered with deep scars, burn scars. 

“Oh my god,” John whispered. The thing roared and it's eyes glowed blood red. It moved to leap at him, but Derek attacked first sending them crashing into a wall. The Alpha tossed Derek off of him like he was nothing. It stood and advanced on John, who aimed his pistol and unloaded his clip into the creature's chest. It dropped to the floor and John listened for a sound of a heart beat. There wasn't one to be heard. He ran to Derek who was trying to pick himself up. “Derek?”

“Run!” Derek said. He stood and dragged John out of the house. “He isn't dead.”

“I unloaded a my gun into his heart, he's dead.” John said not able to resist the super human strength. 

“You barely slowed him down,” Derek explained. 

There was another horrific roar from the house and the Alpha leaped straight at them from inside the structure. Derek rolled John to the side and the alpha smashed into the police cruiser crushing it with the impact. It picked itself up and stalked over to where John and Derek lay. Derek was on his feet again, standing between the two of them. Derek roared in defiance.

The Alpha's answering roar was cut short when a bullet slammed into it's shoulder from the left. A second shot staggered it and took off running. A black SUV pulled up and Chris Argent stepped out. His hands were free of weapons, but he smelled of gunpowder and something else, John couldn't identify. 

Chris offered his hand and John let himself be hoisted to his feet. “Thank you,” he said. They stared at each other and John reluctantly let the other man's hand go. Reminding himself that Argent wasn't his, no matter how much he might like wish otherwise. 

“He's gone,” Derek said, panting. His eyes landed on Chris and he stiffened and growl escaped his throat.

“Easy, he's a Guide,” John said. “He just saved our lives.” 

“He's a hunter,” Derek said tightly. “Those were wolves bane bullets.” 

“My name is Chris Argent,” he said. “I'm truly sorry for the harm my sister caused you and your family. She violated the Code and the official hunter community has disavowed her.” 

Derek didn't say anything, but he shifted back so that he looked normal. 

“I'm surprised to see you back here,” John said.

“I had to leave to take care of some personal business,” Chris said. “But I came back for the Super Moon.” 

“Why?” John asked. 

“We've been watching Beacon Hills for trouble since the fire,” Chris admitted. 

“We?” John asked.

“He means other hunters.” Derek supplied. “They've always watched the different Packs, but they'd never been a problem for us until...” He looked away.

“Yes,” Chris nodded. “It is my family that cause this. It is up my family to fix it.” 

“How?” Derek demanded. “That Alpha kept trying to get me to submit. Part of me wanted to, but there is no way I'm showing my neck to some crazed maniac.”

“Laura just needs to assert-” 

“Laura isn't the Alpha,” Derek said. “None of us are. We lost the family Alpha powers when Mom died.” 

“Derek, I don't know how to say this,” John said slowly. “But that Alpha had healed burn scars. The only other adult member of the pack is Peter.”

“No.” Derek said. “He's in a coma. He hasn't so much as twitched since the fire.”

“You said the Super Moon makes werewolves stronger,” John said. “What if it was strong enough, combined with the strength of an Alpha's abilities, to wake up Peter Hale from his coma. What would be the first thing he'd do?”

“He would go home,” Derek admitted. “With his wife and youngest child dead, he'd lose his mind.” 

“We need to check the hospital,” Chris said. “Confirm that Peter is gone.”

“We need to get to Laura and the kids,” Derek said in a panic. “Peter knows all of our safe houses.” 

“I'll send a patrolman to check the hospital,” John said. “Chris, tell me you have more of those bullets.” 

Chris nodded and they piled into the SUV heading for the Hale property. 

They drove at breakneck speed through the town. As John reported the disturbance as a bear attack over the radio. He ordered more protection for the trial witnesses and a bed check on Kate Argent. Before they even made it into the preserve he received a call from Dispatch. Peter Hale was missing and the on duty nurse was dead. 

“This just keeps getting better and better.” 

John glanced over at the man behind the wheel. He had done a lot of research on the Argent family since his first meeting with Chris. The guide had left Beacon Hills not long after the lawyer had arrived. The pull between then hadn't been life altering or like a bolt from the blue, like the Sentinel Center's pamphlets often described, but it had been there. 

It hadn't been a surprise when he found out that the man was married and had a ten year old daughter. There was a family photo on the Argent Tactical web site of Chris standing with his wife, Victoria Argent, and their daughter Allison that was the quintessential image of a happy family. After all, that had been John's life as well. He would never have given up Maria or Stiles and the happy years they had together. He was pretty sure that Chris wouldn't abandon his family for a latent, barely online, sentinel.

“Stop here,” Derek said and he hopped out even before the truck had stopped. He charged into the darkness not waiting for either man to follow. 

“Damn it, Derek, wait for me,” John growled and followed at a run. He found the teenager a few minutes later at the entrance to what looked like an old bunker. 

“God, Derek!” Laura said as she opened the door and saw him. “What happened to you?” She pulled him into a hug, not caring about the blood on his chest.

“The Alpha,” Derek began. “It's Uncle Peter. He killed one of the nurses.” 

Laura paled. “How? Why?”

John was panting by the time he reached them. He had been listening to them as he ran. “That really doesn't matter right now,” he said. “You have to get out of here.” 

“Where are we supposed to go?” Laura demanded. “If it is Uncle Peter, he'll be able to follow us by scent.”

“We'll take you to the station for now,” John said. 

“That won't stop an Alpha,” Laura protested.

“No, but it should make him think twice,” John replied. “We have a truck waiting at the road.”

“Come on in.” Laura held the door open and John stepped inside. 

He wasn't sure what to expect, but a well furnished set of rooms cut right out of the local granite wasn't it. There was even a working kitchen that he could see to one side. The four children, Cora, Toby, Reggie, and Sasha were all sitting in bunk beds, watching them. 

“Okay, kids,” John said. “I know this hasn't been a fun day, and I know it's late, but I need you all grab whatever you have and come with us.” 

“Why are you afraid of my dad?” Sasha asked as she did as she was told.

“Your dad is sick,” John said, kneeling in front of her. “He was in the hospital for a long time and now he might not know what he's doing. So we're going to make sure he doesn't hurt you by accident.” 

“Okay,” Sasha grabbed a plush squid off her bed before heading for the door. 

As they moved back through the rough path, John saw something he hadn't seen in years. A large lynx moved soundlessly through the trees parallel to his own movements. He paused and it looked at him before fading from view. He took a deep breath and tried to stay calm. If his spirit animal was following him, he was really close to coming online fully. 

They made it to the truck without incident, all of the kids were buckled in safely when the headlights of another vehicle came up the path. The doors opened an four men in full tactical gear climbed out, each of them was carrying a pistol and other weapons. They surrounded Chris' truck with weapons drawn. 

“Nobody move!” One of them ordered.

The driver came into view, walking with slow deliberate steps until he was visible in the headlights. He was an older man, hair white and thinning. 

“I have to say Chris, I'm very disappointed in you,” he said.

“Dad?” Chris said in shock. “What the hell is this?” 

“We're finishing the job.” 

“Chris, who are these people?” John demanded.

“My father, Gerard Agent,” Chris said. “As for the rest, I could probably name them given a few minutes, but I doubt they'll give us that luxury.” 

“Give us the Hales and walk away, Chris,” Gerard said. 

“No,” Chris said firmly. “I don't know what my father has told you men, but this is not a righteous hunt. These are innocent children.”

“You think of them as children, but they're not even human,” Gerard's tone was pitying. “You've let yourself be blinded by that abominable Guide blood.” 

“At least I'm not a murderer,” Chris replied. 

John wasn't listening anymore, he reached inside himself, to that part of his soul that was the Sentinel, he'd never wanted it, because it carried with it burdens he hadn't wanted to deal with. But it was a weight he would have to bare if they had a hope of getting out of this alive and stopping Pete Hale from killing anyone else. He closed his eyes for a moment, and felt his senses open fully for the first time.  
He could smell the wolves bane in the bullets of the men around them. He could hear the rabbiting heart beats of the children in Chris's truck. He could feel the texture of the gravel under his feet through the soles of his shoes. In his heart, he felt his Guide standing next to him, desperately trying to talk sense into these men that called themselves 'hunters'. When he opened his eyes again, he saw what he could do, he just needed to give them all a chance to surrender.

“Listen to me, all of you,” John said, evenly. “I am the Sheriff of Beacon Hills, if you lower your weapons right now and walk away, I will forget this happened. If you attempt to harm anyone in my territory, I'll drop you where you stand.” 

Gerard laughed. “We have you out gunned. Exactly what do you think you can do to us, sheriff?” He said John's title like an insult. “Take the pups. Kill the older ones.” He ordered. 

John pulled his pistol and fired one shot into the first man that moved. It was a perfectly aimed head shot, hitting between the man's goggles at the bridge of his nose. He took two steps to the right and fired twice, hitting the two men farthest away in the knees. The forth man got off one hasty shot that missed completely as John fired again, hitting the man in the neck. 

He took three steps and he was in Gerard's personal space before the man had time to retreat. “I could have lived my entire life happy as a latent.” He growled. “But no, you had to come here. Your daughter had to come here and start murdering my people.” He shoved Gerard into the side of his vehicle, pressing his forearm against the older man's throat, choking him.

“What are you?” Gerard croaked. His eyes wide with shock and fear.

“I'm a sentinel, you asshole,” John replied. “And you just attacked my tribe.” 

“John, watch out!” Chris shouted. 

John felt something touch his side and then his entire world whited out in pain.

** **

Chris had been completely astounded when he felt John come fully online next to him. There had been hints and subtle nuances in the sheriff's perceptions since they had reunited, but he hadn't expected anything like this. The pure power and precision of his movements, the accuracy of his shots was nothing less than jaw dropping. 

John had his father against his car, a niggling worry about him being that close. Then he remember, Gerard Argent was never unarmed.

“John, watch out!” Chris shouted a moment before his father pulled out a tazer and slammed it into the sentinel's side.

John's shout of pain was echoed by Derek's roar and the young werewolf leaped over the distance between them in a single bound. He wrenched the tazer from Gerard's hand and tossed the old man into a tree. Derek's claws tearing through cloth and flesh. 

Chris was already running to his sentinel's side. He rested John's head on his lap. His eye were open but his pupils were tiny points. “John listen to me,” Chris said desperately. “It hurts, I know it hurts, but you have to dial it down, push it away. The pain is already gone. Your nerves are just over stimulated.” 

“You're his guide?” Laura asked. She had come out of the truck at some point.

“Yes,” Chris said. “Listen, there is rope in the back of the truck. Tie them all up and call for help.” 

“Okay,” Laura hesitated. “Thank you, for helping us.” 

Chris nodded and focused back on John. “Listen I know you just want to shut down and sleep, but I need you to wake up. Peter Hale is still out there and you're the only one that can possibly stop him. If you don' wake up, I'll have to tell Stiles.”

“Miec- Mieczyslaw,” John said softly.

“What?” Chris leaned in closer.

“His real name is Mieczyslaw,” John repeated.

“I don't think I can pronounce that,” Chris admitted.

“Not many people can,” John said. “I can't most of the time.” He tried to sit up.

“Don't move yet,” Chris told him, pushing down on his shoulders. “Give yourself a minute.”

“Traitor!” Gerard yell from where he lay on the ground. “You'll never be welcomed back! I hope the alpha rips your heart out.” 

“Once the moon is down-” Chris said.

“You think the moon did this?” Gerard cackled. 

John struggled to his feet. “What did you do?” 

“I injected his IV with colloidal silver,” Gerard boasted. “It drives wolves mad. It's like feeding gunpowder to a dog. Just blind luck that he was the new Alpha. You'll never stop him.”

It was some time before police and ambulances managed find them. The wounded hunters were given first air and the dead were left for the medical examiner. 

Deputy Cordova approached John who was sitting on the back bumper of one of the ambulances. 

“What have you got?” John ashed.

“Two people who are connected to the Argent trial are in the ER,” he said. “Adrian Harris appears to have had a head on collision with that grizzly you reported earlier, he's expected to pull through. His car is in pieces all across JFK boulevard, he's covered in bites and scratches. Terry Bennett's protection detail is dead and he was in pieces all over the safe house.”

“Call the state police, let them know what happened.” John rubbed his head. “Is Kate Argent still secure?” 

“Yeah,” Cordova replied. “County Lockup reports all is quiet.”

“Small favors,” John sighed. “All the guys tied up that are still alive, book them on attempted kidnapping, attempted murder, and assault on a police officer.”

“Are you okay, sir?” Cordova asked.

“I will be,” John said. “Better let everyone know they can end the betting pool.” 

“Sir?” he blinked. 

“As of an hour ago, I'm online,” John replied. “And this guy,” he pointed at Chris, “is my Guide.” 

“Um, wow.” Cordova said. “Congratulations?” He looked at Chris and back to John.

“Yeah, yeah.” John waved him away. “Let's get back to the station and regroup.” 

“If you don't need to be transported, we need to take the last one to the hospital,” the EMT said. They wheeled Gerard over, he was on a backboard and a neck brace.

“Keep a guard on him.” John told them. “I don't care if he's paralyzed from the neck down. I want guards round the clock.” 

“Yes, sir.”

On the drive back, Laura leaned over the front seat. “Sheriff, if Mr. Harris was bitten, we're going to have to watch him. An Alpha's bite can turn a human.” 

“Oh my god,” Derek groaned. “Mr Harris, a werewolf? He's the worst.”

“The bite might not take,” Chris reminded them. 

“He's horrible, but I don't want him to die,” Derek replied. “It's either one or the other.”

“With the silver poisoning Peter's system, the bite might not work either way,” Chris said softly.

“If we catch him,” John said. “Can we flush the silver out of his body?” 

“I suppose it's possible, but we'd need advanced medical equipment,” Chris suggested. “A saline solution and a IV wouldn't be enough.”

John pulled into the station's parking area. “I have an idea, but I need to make a few calls.” 

“Can you answer a question about the trial?” Laura asked as they entered the station.

“Depends on the question,” John said. “I'll try.”

“Why is Mr. Harris even involved? He's a high school chemistry teacher.” 

John took a deep breath. “Harris supplied Martin Creaser with a quantity of potassium hydride. He claims he had no idea what the man wanted it for, but he paid a lot of money for it. He used the school's science department credentials on the order. Creaser threw the container into your house, hoping it would explode. It's really unstable in air or water.”

“That was the sound of glass breaking we all heard,” Derek said softly. “Before the fire started.”

“Exactly,” John affirmed. “When it didn't explode, they set fire to the front porch and back deck with a can of gasoline. When the firefighters started putting water on the fire, the potassium hydride reacted to it and exploded.” John shook his head. “Harris made a plea deal to testify against Creaser during his competency hearing and Kate's trial, in exchange for probation and community service.” 

“So he won't go to jail for his part in this?” Laura asked.

“No, but the plea will be on his record for the rest of his life,” John replied. “He better be grateful he had tenure at the school, because it's doubtful any other school will higher him.”

“Can you really help my dad?” Sasha asked, clutching her stuffed squid.

“We're going to try, honey,” Chris replied. 

** ** 

“Excuse me, you want what?” Melissa McCall asked over the phone.

“A dialysis machine,” John said, wincing. He was sitting in his office. Chris was leaning against one of his bookshelves watching him. He'd put the call on speaker, so that his guide could listen in.

“What on Earth for?” 

“I can't tell you, but it is official police business.” John assured her. “Does the hospital have one?” 

“Of course it does, but you just can't take one,” Melissa replied. “You need someone trained in how it works.”

“You wouldn't happen to-”

“No, John, I can't operate a dialysis machine,” Melissa replied before he could finish. 

“Fine! Forget I asked,” John sighed. “How is Stiles?” 

“Sleeping, like I should be,” she replied. “He's worried about you. He kept talking about how it's a full moon tonight.”

“Keep the doors locked,” John said. “All the nuts are out and about.”

“You'll be careful?”

“As careful as I can be.” John promised and ended the call. “Okay, plan B.” 

“Melissa?” Chris asked.

“She and my wife were best friends,” John explained. “Scott, her son, is Stiles' best friend.” 

“So there's nothing...” Chris trailed off.

“We're friends,” John replied. “Not that it matters. You are married.” 

“About that,” Chris began. 

“You can tell me later,” John started dialing again. 

“Guide Sentinel Association, emergency hotline, Trixie speaking. How may we be of assistance?” 

“This is Sheriff John Stilinski of the Beacon Hills police department,” John said. “I have a heavy metal poisoning of a hypersensitive person.”

“Heavy metal poisoning requires a complete and thorough cleaning of the subjects blood,” Trixie replied. “You have to have the person transported to the nearest GSA certified hospital.”

“That's not an option,” John said. “The subject is extremely dangerous and transport is too risky. I need whatever equipment brought here.”

“Um, let me get my supervisor.” Suddenly he was assaulted with elevator music.

“We could always steal what we need,” Chris offered.

“I'm sure hunters do that all the time, but I'm a cop,” John sighed. 

“Sheriff, this is Sentinel Jordan Parrish, we have you marked as a latent.” 

At his voice Chris straightened and moved over to the desk.

“That is irrelevant,” John said impatiently. “Do you have access to the kind of equipment that I need?”

“Sentinel Parrish,” Chris interrupted. “This is Guide Christopher Argent, this is a code black situation.”

“One moment please,” there was a series of clicks over the line. “Guide Argent, Sheriff Stilinski, we are on a secure line. Please tell me what your situation is.” 

“What is a code black?” John demanded.

“It's a special code for hunters.” Chris explained. “I wouldn't have said anything if Parrish hadn't been on the line.”

“Is he a hunter?” John asked, wondering how many people out there were secretly part of this insanity.

“No sir,” Parrish said. “But I am knowledgeable about these things.” 

“Okay,” John took a deep breath, a part of him still couldn't believe what he was about to say. “We have an Alpha werewolf that has been deliberately poisoned by colloidal silver. He is on a murderous rampage, but he is not in his right mind. We are trying to subdue him without killing him.” 

“So you need a dialysis machine to get the silver out of his system?”

“It's a long shot,” Chris said. “But the Hales have had enough loss. If we can get it out of his system, his natural heal abilities will kick in.”

“I'll get things moving on this end,” Parrish said. “It may take a while.”

“Do what you can,” John said. “Lives are at stake.”

When the call ended, John covered his face with his hands. “We're going to need enough tranquilizer to put down a bull elephant. Plus we have to figure out a way to lure him where we want him.” 

“We have what he wants,” Chris said. He turned to look out at the Hales, who were sitting together in the station conference room.

“I am not using children as bait,” John snarled.

“We might not have a choice,” Chris reminded him. “He's searching for them already.”

“We need to make one more call.” John sighed. He picked up his phone and dialed. 

“Beacon Hills Veterinary Clinic,” the voice said.

“This is Sheriff Stilinski, I need to speak to Dr. Deaton.” 

“This is Dr. Deaton. How can I help you, Sheriff?”

“Doctor, we have an emergency situation,” John said.

“I've been expecting your call,” Deaton said.

“Have you, now?” John shared a look with Chris, who shrugged. 

“Peter Hale must be stopped. If you could come to my clinic, I may have somethings for you.” Deaton paused. “You might want to bring your guide with you.” He abruptly ended the call and John stared at the phone in consternation. 

“What the hell?” John asked.

“Druids,” Chris shook his head. “Shall we go?” 

“This night is never going to end.” John groaned as he stood. 

Out in the main room he call all of his deputies together. “I'm going out, I need you all to stay alert. Anything weird happens, you call me immediately.” He pointed to the Hales. “They are your top priority. Understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

** **

“So, about my wife,” Chris began. 

“Victoria, she seems nice according to her biography,” John said. “Do you call her Vicky?”

“She would beat me to death if I ever attempted to call her that,” Chris said.

“Really, you make a lovely couple on your company website,” John replied, deadpan. 

“I filed for divorce a week after I met you,” Chris said. 

John slammed on the brakes. It was a good thing it was the middle of the night, otherwise they would have caused a traffic accident. “Excuse me?” 

“Our relationship was never based on love.” Chris continued. “She is a member of a powerful hunting family, same as I am. She wanted a child to continue her bloodline. A lot of hunter families intermarry, but there was no blood connection between the Argents and the Campbells. I run Argent Tactical from home. I was as close to a stay at home Dad as she could hope for in our community. We got married for tax purposes.” 

“You're kidding,” John was horrified. “You make it sound like she picked you out of a kennel for breeding.”

“It isn't that far off,” Chris sighed. “Hunters rarely marry for love, and she knew I was a guide. There was always a chance I would find my sentinel.”

“What about your daughter?” John demanded. “You're just going to leave her?”

“Of course not!” Chris replied, stung. “Victoria is an active hunter. She is always on the road. Allison will live with me.” 

“Where is she now?” John asked, starting to drive again.

“Victoria has her at the family cabin in Oregon,” Chris replied. “Allison already knows we're breaking up. This is their first week of visitation. I'm just hoping she's young enough not to resent the hell out of us.” 

“I gotta tell you,” John said. “That has got to be the saddest thing I've ever heard of.” 

“Hunters aren't known for their compassion,” Chris said. “I love my daughter and I would move heaven and earth for her. Which is why I'm divorcing Victoria. I want her to see that there is more to life than the cold, loveless marriage, I let myself get talked into.” 

John knew Chris was telling the truth, it just seemed so strange to him. He had loved Maria with all his heart. He wouldn't have been able to choose between her and some stranger that he barely knew, no matter the 'connection' or 'bond' between them. But he also knew she would have gladly welcomed Chris as an additional member of their family. “I suppose I'll have to prepare Stiles for the idea that he's getting what amounts to a stepsister his own age.”

Chris turned to him in surprise. “Oh, wow. I hope they get along.”

** ** 

Beacon Hills Veterinary Clinic looked closed, most of the lights were out, but there was a car in the parking lot. Which considering it was just after midnight wasn't a surprise. John and Chris went to the front door and found it opened. There was a light on past the main lobby, so they followed it into the back. John could here someone moving around.

“Hello? Dr. Deaton.” John called, his hand resting on his pistol. 

“Come on back, Sheriff.” They followed the voice into a main examination room. There was a large stainless steel table in the middle and medical supplies all around. “Ah, thank you for coming so quickly.” 

Deaton was average height, but well muscled, his dark brown skin a stark contrast to the harshly white walls of the room. He had a rifle laid out on the examination table. “This is an air rifle, and these are tranquilizer darts. I've had to modify the dosage in order to deal with your target.” 

“How long will this keep him out?” Chris asked picking up the dart and examining it closely.

“I can't say,” Deaton admitted. “An hour, maybe more. I suspect that you have a plan, but you're going to need more than just that machine to clean him out.” He handed John a bottle of a thick liquid. “This is a blood purifier. Unfortunately, you need to get him to ingest it orally.” 

“And this will help him?” John asked.

“It should.” Deaton replied. “There are no absolutes in my line of work. I must warn you, however. Peter has always been something of a loose canon. Talia had always been able to keep his more chaotic impulses in check. As the Alpha for the Hale pack there is no telling what he might do.”

“We'll keep an eye on him,” John said. 

“Perhaps you should do more than watch,” Deaton replied. “You are going through a lot of trouble to help a man that has already killed several members of your tribe.”

“You're helping us, but now you're suggesting we kill him?” Chris stared at the veterinarian. “What are you playing at.” 

“Not kill,” Deaton said. “Neutralize. You can order him to pass on the Alpha powers to another of his pack.”

“Excuse me?” John stared at him. “How exactly are we supposed to do that?” 

“He is formidable in his madness, but the silver in his system will have weakened him in compared to a healthy Alpha as the Super Moon sets. Once you have him subdued, compel him to give up his power.” Deaton said with a shrug. “Or not, it is just a suggestion.” 

“Thank you for your help.” Chris said, hefting the rifle and pocketing the darts.

“One more thing,” Deaton said. He pulled out a large jar of what looked like black powder. “Mountain Ash. Pour this in a circle around him and he will be trapped.”

“Seriously?” John said with deep skepticism.

“In the right hands, mountain ash is a very powerful protection,” Deaton assured him. “With the proper application of will and a spark of imagination it can make minor miracles.” 

Once they were outside and loading the truck, John looked at Chris. “Druids?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Druids.”

** ** 

“This is insane,” John muttered as they drove. “Druids, werewolves, mountain ash...” He looked over at Chris. “I feel like I'm so far behind the curve I'll never catch up.”

“How is it any crazier than a sentinel's spirit animal?” Chris asked. “Or the empathy of a guide?” 

“I suppose it isn't.” John admitted. “Except that you can't be turned into a sentinel or guide if they bite you.”

Chris chuckled. “I suppose it is a bit overwhelming if you haven't been exposed to it before.”

“I've had months to get used to werewolves,” John said. “Hell, Derek had practically moved in for a while.” 

“So, what's the issue?” Chris asked. 

“The issue is, that obviously there is the whole other part of the world, a part that the GSA is aware of,” John said. “That they have elected to keep hidden.”

“Can you blame them?” Chris asked. “The world is a scary place at times without adding in what the average person would consider nightmare fuel.” 

“Maybe if more people knew the truth, if the Hales didn't feel compelled to hide what they are, there would be fewer people like Martin Creaser and your sister.” 

“You're oversimplifying.” Chris shook his head. “The truth is, there will always be people who fear those that are 'other'. You know as well as I do that for every ten thousand people that respect or even venerate sentinels and guides, there is one person out there that would gladly burn us all at the stake.” 

“I'll give you that,” John conceded.

“If not werewolves, then it would be Jews or Atheists or homosexuals.” Chris continued. “Don't get me wrong, Hunters exist for a reason. There are plenty of creatures out there that would rip your heart out and have it for lunch. We risk our lives to keep that darkness at the edges of society. Werewolves are, at worst, a situational threat.”

“So is Martin Creaser a hunter?” John asked. 

“He was,” Chris said. “But he lost his nerve and his perspective over a decade ago. He was ordered to stay away from hunts and to call other, more trusted, hunters in of he found one.” 

“So even if he knew there were children in that house, he probably didn't care.” John surmised.

“Exactly the kind of person my sister loves to work with,” Chris replied. They drove the rest of the way in silence.

** **

The police station was quiet when they arrived. The Hale children where sleep on the couch in John's office. It would have been cute, if not for the way they seemed to cling to one another. Derek was dozing just outside the office door, in a chair. Laura was pacing quietly in the break room. John went to get a clean uniform, since his was currently covered in ground in dirt and blood. Chris was tempted to follow him, but there were other concerns that needed to be addressed. 

“Laura, I have to ask you something,” Chris said.

“Okay?” Laura said.

“If there was a way to get your uncle to relinquish the Alpha, would you be willing to take it?” 

Laura paled. “I don't know if I'm ready for that.” 

“You were supposed to be the heir,” Chris said. “Why it went to Peter and not you, we'll probably never know. If we are forced to kill him or if you can't accept it, and you lose the mantle of the Hale Alpha, this area will be up for grabs for whoever wants it.” 

“If we can fix Peter he could be a really strong Alpha. He was always loyal to Talia and the family,” Laura replied. 

“Are you willing to risk it?” Chris asked. “Risk hunters coming here, gunning for what they will see as a rogue Alpha.”

“A rogue your father created,” Laura pointed out. “Hasn't your family caused mine enough pain?” Her eyes glowed golden. 

“I will bare the weight of my family's sins for the rest of my life,” Chris told her quietly. “The noble name of Argent will be tainted by their deeds, my daughter will have to bare them no matter her own choices.” He looked out the break room window at Derek, who was still sleeping. “Your family will carry the weight of the decisions that you make on their behalf.”

Laura looked at her brother and swallowed hard. “Yes, if it comes to it, I'll accept the Alpha.”

“Thank you.” Chris said softly. “And for what it is worth, I'm sorry.”

“You're the only Argent I'd ever be inclined to believe you mean that,” she replied and left the room, heading back to sit with Derek.

** ** 

Several hours later, with the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon. They had the last of their plan set to go. They had suggested and rejected a dozen different ideas on how they would do this. In the end they'd had no choice. 

“Are we ready?” John asked looking around the station garage. 

“I think so,” Chris said. 

“I still don't like this plan.” John reiterated. 

“We've all talked it over, Sheriff,” Laura said. “This is the best plan we have.”

“Okay, but if anything goes wrong, you grab the kids and you run, understood?” he asked.

“We understand,” she replied. 

“Okay, let's do this.” He hit the garage door control and rose. The plan was for the two oldest Hales to howl a challenge and bring Peter to the station. The deputies had all been brought in on the truth of the situation and were given tasks to complete for the plant to work. John figured they'd have a few minutes to wait.

A man was standing at the door waiting for it to open. He was wearing a pair of black pants and a leather jacket. His hair was shoulder length and he had scars on his face and bare chest.

Everyone stood in stunned silence as he took a step inside and then another. He moved with a casual grace of a stalking predator. 

“Uncle Peter?” Laura asked, uncertainly.

“Laura...” His eyes tracked to her, but they slid off. “I've been searching, all night I've been searching.”

“We know,” she said, stepping to the center of the room. “We were hiding from you.”

“Why would you hide from me,” Peter asked. “We're family.”

“You killed people,” Laura said. “Innocent people.”

“They were in my way,” he said lightly. “At first I thought I wanted revenge, but I couldn't find Kate. So I killed the ones I could, why should I care who gets in the way. They certainly didn't care. My wife, my children.” 

“Uncle please, let us help you,” Derek said.

“Help me?” Peter snarled, his fangs growing, his eyes turning red. “You brought that woman's scent into the house. Her scent was all over you.” He trailed off. “Like my little Sasha. I can smell her even now,” he said distractedly. “Then I leaned the truth. Your paramour was an Argent!”

“I didn't know who she was!” Derek shouted back. 

“You should have!” Peter roared. “But it was Talia, my dear departed sister. She thought you should grow up as normal as possible. She didn't instill the fear of hunters that she should have. I warned her and now she's gone.” He looked down at his hands as they transformed into claws. “The Alpha is dead. Long live the Alpha.” 

“Uncle Peter, don't do this,” Laura said. “You were poisoned in the hospital, let us help you.” 

“I know,” Peter sneered. “Gerard Argent loves to monologue. He told me all about his plan to destroy the Hale pack while I lay helpless.”

“Then stop, let us help you,” Derek pleaded.

“Submit to me, Derek,” Peter demanded, his eyes glowing red. “Beg for my forgiveness and we will get our revenge on the Argents and all the other hunters out there.” 

“No, there is nothing he needs to be forgiven for,” Laura said. “You're not suited to be the Alpha. You have no control.” 

“Control? I'll show you control!” He transformed completely and roared in rage. He charged forward unaware of the deputy running across the garage door entrance pouring mountain ash as he went.

Chris came out from behind a large rolling tool box and fired the air rifle. The dart hit Peter in the chest. Peter stumbled to a halt and stared down at the dart in surprise then turned to look at Chris, who was quickly reloading. 

“Peter Hale!” John shouted, putting all his years as a father into the authority in his voice. “I'm ordering you as the Sentinel of Beacon Hills. Surrender and let us help you.” 

“Ssssentinel,” Peter let out a harsh laugh through razor sharp teeth. “Protector of the tribe.” He snapped his jaws at him. “Where were you when my family burned?” 

“I was right there, helping as many as I could escape the fire,” John said. “There is someone you've been looking for.” From behind him, little Sasha stepped into view. Her eyes were wet with tears as she clutched her little stuffed squid. 

“Daddy, please stop. You're scaring me,” she said. “Momma always got mad when you did scary things.”

“Sasha?” Peter trembled, and reverted to human form. He didn't even reacting when a second dart hit him in the leg. “Sasha honey.” He tilted his head, like he couldn't quite believe he was seeing her. “I searched for you all night. I thought it was some trick, you kept moving.” 

Sasha broke away from John and ran to her father. “Daddy, please. You're sick. The bad men poisoned you. Please, please, please, let the Sentinel and Guide help. You always told me I could trust them, even if everything else as bad.” 

Peter knelt and wrapped his arms around his daughter. “I did say that,” he said. He inhaled her scent and let out a shuddering sob. “I thought you were gone.”

“Peter,” Laura said softly. “You can't be the Alpha.” 

“I need to keep Sasha safe,” he said raising his head. His eyes bright with tears and lucidity.

“You don't need to be the Alpha to do that,” Laura assured him. “We're pack, more than that we're family.” 

He reached out for his niece, they joined hands, Laura's claws digging into his wrist. “If you fail,” he said. “I'll take it back the old fashioned way.”

“I know.” Laura shuddered and groaned. One moment, her eyes glowed gold, but then they flashed red. She threw her head back and roared. Her whole body seemed to melt and reform, not into a werewolf, but a actual wolf. She raised her head and howled. The rest of the pack answered her in acknowledgment of her new status.

“So like your mother,” Peter said softly. The tranquilizer took effect and he slumped forward against his daughter. 

Derek grabbed hold of him. He pulled Peter briefly into a hug before laying him down on the cold concrete floor. Sasha had to be gently pried off of him as she clung to his torn leather jacket with her claws.

“Move, people,” John ordered softly. His deputies ran quickly to their assigned jobs. They hauled Peter up and stripped him bare from the waist up. They placed him on a prisoner restraint bed and strapped him down. No one tried to stop Sasha when she climbed up on the bed and laid her head on his shoulder. 

Laura became human again and staggered to her feet. Derek approached and silently bared his neck. Laura pulled him into her arms. “I'm sorry I was so hard on you.” He didn't say anything he just nodded and held on.

Two medical technicians wearing GSA logos entered from a side door, rolling a five foot tall machine between them. Sentinel Parrish had come through for them in a big way. The equipment had arrived via helicopter two hours before dawn.

The pair worked quickly and efficiently, inserting IV needles into of Peter's arm and plugged tubes into each one. They had explained that the filters they would be using were called hemopurifiers. They were strictly regulated and only meant for use on Sentinels. They were designed for removal of chemical or biological contamination beyond what a regular dialysis machine's filter's could handle. 

“Will this help?” Sasha asked where she clung to her unconscious father like a limpet. 

“We hope so, honey,” John said. 

“This will also filter out the tranquilizer from his system,” the one tech explained. “So you'll need to keep an eye on him.” 

“I'll stay with him,” Laura replied. “He's my responsibility now.” She looked at what was left of her family. “They all are.”

“What did he mean,” John asked. “About the old fashioned way?” 

“One way to become an Alpha is to kill another and steal their power,” Laura said tightly. 

“The entire police force knows the truth and they've all agreed to help keep you and your family safe,” Chris said. “If hunters come, they'll know they aren't wanted.”

“Thank you,” Laura replied.

“Well if this is all in hand, I'm going home and I'm going to try and sleep for a few hours,” John said. “And make sure my son hasn't decided to figure out who shot JFK again.” 

“JFK? Really?” Chris said with a smile.

“Deputy Cordova, please don't call me for at least six hours,” John said tiredly. “Unless the world is coming to an end. I'll deal with the DA and the impact of last nights events when I get back on shift.” He turned to Chris. “Are you coming?” 

Chris raised an eyebrow. “You're taking me home to your bed, Sentinel?”

“No, I'm taking you home to my guest bedroom,” John replied. “Unless you have a house you haven't mentioned before, and right now I don't like the idea of you being somewhere other than where I can see you. Anything more is going to wait until I've hugged my son, had a shower, and slept for at least four hours.”

“If you add in having a hot meal, I'm right there with you,” Chris replied and followed him outside.

“Well you better be,” John said. “I took my patrol car to work, and it got crushed, so you're driving.” 

As they climbed into the SUV Chris said, “About JFK...”

End


End file.
